


Maybe It's Better This Way

by Arriva



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly hurt, non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8678782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arriva/pseuds/Arriva
Summary: Light years away from the Hephaestus, Anne records a message for her dad.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Finally hopping on the Wolf 359 train! I've been listening for awhile now, but I just haven't had the chance to write something for it. I hope everything sounds in character! I find Eiffel much harder to write than Minkowski.

Minkowski is going to kill Warren Kepler.

Not yet. Oh, she wishes she could stride into his quarters right now and pull the trigger. However, planning murder takes time and patience. The knowledge doesn't get rid of the rage surging through her. The same way the star turned blue, finding out what Goddard told Earth about the Hephaestus crew has switched something in her, and she doesn't know yet if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Needless to say, she can't stop moving. Whether she's pacing down the halls, exercising, or hell, finishing her chores, Minkowski doesn't care as long as she's doing  _something_.

Hilbert walks in on her doing sit-ups. "Is this a good time?"

"What do you want?" she says between sit-ups.

"When Officer Eiffel and I were configuring the communication device... we received a transmission. An old one," Hilbert says. "I wouldn't bring this issue to you, but the contents of this transmission seem to have made Officer Eiffel... upset."

Minkowski stops mid-sit-up. "What did it say?"

"He won't tell me. But whatever it was, it's rendered him inconsolable. Perhaps you should speak with him."

Her? The last time Minkowski spoke to Eiffel was her swearing vengeance on Kepler. Other than that, she's kept her interaction with him to a minimum. In hindsight, the way she barreled into the coms room may have taken Eiffel aback. But the revelation that Goddard effectively killed them... she hadn't considered how Doug would process it.

And yet the prospect of a real conversation with him intimidates her far more than Kepler ever will.

* * *

She finds him in his usual haunt: the coms room. Instead of classical music or his own pop culture-infused ramblings filling up the space, a heavy silence hangs over the room. Eiffel sits limply in his chair, head hung low. If he hears Minkowski entering, he makes no indication of it.

Minkowski clears her throat. No response. "Eiffel, I need you to-"

"How long?" he says quietly.

She doesn't know. She doesn't want to think about it, because then her bloodlust for Kepler flares again. She softens her tone. "Doug..."

" _How long?_ "

He swivels to look at her, and she sees his eyes are red. He wordlessly slams his finger down on the play button. There's a sound of static. Then the voice that comes out nearly takes Minkowski's breath away.

_"Hi, Dad."_

Her mouth drops. "Is that...?"

"Yeah."

Deep down she knew. Even before Doug hit play.

 _"I'm not sure how this sounds,"_  the girl on the radio- no, Anne- no,  _Doug's Anne_ , continues. _"I mean I am literally not sure how this sounds. I can't exactly hear this- but neither can you, I guess. So that makes us even."_

Her voice possesses the same dry quality to it that Doug's has. The similarity is uncanny. Doug stares at the recorder as if Anne's in the room with him. Minkowski lingers in the doorway, gripping the frame like an anchor. Her energy has dissipated into stillness, and despite her instincts shouting at her to go to Doug, she can't move. She just can't.

 _"My English teacher wanted us to record a message to a loved one who's died, and since you're pretty dead-"_ Anne's breath hitches at this part. Minkowski notices Doug tense up. After a few seconds of silence, Anne powers on.  _"You fit the general criteria._ _So... where do I start?"_   There's a rustle of paper; Minkowski assumes it's a prompt of some sort. _"I'm sixteen now. Don't know if you were counting the days. Mom got me a laptop. I got my license too. Turns out they let deaf people drive. I don't blame you for that by the way. I mean I_ did  _but... being deaf isn't as bad as I thought it would be. I have a good audiologist. She's like the Annie Sullivan to my Helen Keller. Did you ever watch The Miracle Worker? I found your stash of VHS tapes, but I don't know if Mom kept them all. I didn't see that one in there."_

Doug's head is in his hands now. 

 _"What else... what else... oh hey, my future!"_ Anne says with new vigor in her voice. _"I'm thinking about going into computer science. I like coding, and I think I'm not shitty at it. I guess I get that from you. Funny story, Mrs. Kerr called me out in class for not doing a coding assignment the other day, but I'd actually finished it early. I think she just doesn't like me. On the plus side, Jared..."_ Anne trails off followed by a deep sigh. Her voice goes dry again. _"You have no idea who I'm talking about. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I mean I'm not_  really _telling this to you anyway. Not like you're ever gonna..._ "

Minkowski hears the muffled sounds of Anne crying and sees Doug crying silently with her. He's one of those criers who doesn't like to show he's crying. But he can't hide the way his entire body shakes. It's enough to send anyone with a heart rushing to his side, but she can't bring herself to move.

She wishes to god she could.

When Anne gathers enough to composure to speak again, her voice is angrier. _"What the hell, Dad? Why did you leave? I know you did something to get me all this treatment. Mom could never afford it. She wouldn't tell me what, only that I could never visit, and then I found out through the fucking newspaper! And I just... GOD!"_   There's a slam followed by the sound of something shattering. _"And I don't know, maybe until then I thought you'd come back! So dumb, right? Why should something go right in my life!? I didn't even get to see you after the crash! I don't even have a body to..."_

She makes no effort to hide her sobs now. Minkowski pictures a teenage girl's bedroom and a young girl with Doug's wavy brown hair and expressive eyes sobbing into a piece of equipment. Doug shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be here. She feels like a ghost. Watching silently, not being able to step in. 

Because that's what they are now. Ghosts.

 _"You know what the worst part is?"_ Anne says. _"Some days it feels like you never existed. Like some bad dream that fucked my life up. I don't know. Maybe it's better this way. You being gone. Maybe I'll finally be able to-"_ There's a knock at the door. _"Shit, I gotta go. Well... it was nice talking to you. Or whatever this is. Bye, Dad."_

The recording switches off, bringing Minkowski back to space and far from Earth. Whatever hold the recording had over her releases, and suddenly, she wants to move again. Away. Far away. No, to Doug. She should move toward Doug, her brain corrects.

She goes clumsily to Doug, still hunched in over himself, and awkwardly places a hand on his shoulder. He tenses at her touch. "I am so sorry," she says.

"Sure," he mutters. "Everyone's sorry."

"This message isn't a death sentence. I know it _feels_ like..." Like his daughter hates him? That'll cheer him up. Why can't she find the right thing to say? Why can't she just leave him alone to sort everything out on his own? "We're going home," she says with forced finality.

His head snaps up. "And then what? Explain to my daughter how I'm responsible for every awful thing that's happened to her?"

"Doug, you are _not_ responsible for this," Minkowski says.

"But I am!" he says feverishly. "Isn't that why you've been avoiding me? Can't reconcile Doug the Lost Puppy from Outer Space with Doug the Neglectful Alcoholic from Earth, can you?" She doesn't respond. Doug laughs bitterly. "That's what I thought."

That's exactly why. Not like she hasn't noticed. Not like she hasn't tried and tried and  _tried_ to look past that. 

"If I'm gone for good, at least I won't be able to ruin her life anymore," Doug says. "Maybe it's better this way."

Maybe it is. The fact that she even _considers_ that scares her. The fact that she can't fix their relationship in a single conversation scares her even more. The fact that she doesn't know what to say now scares her the most.

So she doesn't say anything.

Instead, she pulls him into a hug.

He tries to pull away at first, but even in low gravity, she's still stronger than him. When he gives up, he practically sinks into her arms. Despite having a full eight inches on her, Doug is small in her grasp. They stay like that for god knows how long. To the point where it doesn't feel like time is passing. That life-altering decisions don't await them when they pull apart.

And once again, for the briefest second she thinks maybe it  _is_ better this way.


End file.
